A Picture is Worth More Than a Thousand Words
by googolplexians
Summary: The only things Anastasia has to her name are her clothes, an automail left arm, her alchemy skills, and her last remains of her best friend. She goes on a search for more than just the stone, but also her true self. *no mary sue and no EDxOC*
1. Chapter 1

**Oh my gosh, I'm actually posting this. well, hello world, this is my first time posting a FullMetalAlchemist fanfiction. This is just a random idea I had. And please trust me, this is more than just another mary sue. Well, maybe she is a little, but this is my little idea I hope people will like. So, here it goes!**

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Here I am, walking on this endless road, looking towards the horizon, the future. The road, dull and brown with hints of gray rubble piercing my feet, only covered by a thin layer of leather boots. The dust emitted from my feet's shuffling is hitting my eyes like bullets. The sky's not helping with my mood either. It has a gray hue to it, they type seen on a gloomy day like so. The trees bordering the road have all lost their leaves, being empty shells of their former selves. My life isn't so great, like this road. My soul is withering at the seams, just as the dust is removed. The dust, though, also affects more than just the removal; my body isn't so spotless. My hair is dull, even duller than this sky. Hmm, since this road is unbelievably long, I should explain my story.

I'm Anastasia, a plain Jane if you will. Nothing's so grand about me, probably except I like to learn and be smart. My mom's taught me since I was two, enlarging my brain every second of every day, but I didn't mind it. I was raised to love it, part of the reason why I didn't grow up with many friends. My only friend was Kendall, the only guy that had an interest in books like me. We were nothing special though; we were only kids! We learned together, we played together, we even made trouble together! As we learned together, we learned how to do alchemy from my mom. She was such a genius in everything. She could have joined the army if she wanted! Yet, she wanted to better the future.

As we learned alchemy, some of the secrets we had to learn from the books, for my mom didn't want to tell us all the negative parts. Yet, as we learned these negative rules, we easily decided to follow them, you know, being smart and such. But we still fooled around the town, getting into mischief. I was always a risky girl, ready to be dared to eat a bug or even climb a train passing by. Kendall would be the one to dare me, and I would dare him. We were the dynamic duo of Kantella, a small town located north of central, but nowhere close to Briggs! It was hot in the summer, cold in the winter, and normal in spring and autumn. It was the perfect hometown. Too bad it didn't stay like that. As soon as those central soldiers invaded my town to bring "harmony" 4 years ago, my life has been down the toilet. My drive to goof off led to disaster…..

"_It'd be fun Kendall! Just try it!" I begged him. We were standing near the trucks filled with soldiers from central. "Just yell that you're an Ishbalan. No one in the right mind would believe you! You're pure Amestrian!"_

"_If you say so Stasia" Kendall caved in. We waited for hours for those soldiers to come out of their large trucks. As soon as those doors opened, all hell broke loose. _

_A surge of terror flew through my mind. What if they took Kendall seriously, even for one second? I just knew I had to stop my stupid dare. "Kendall! Don't-" but it was too late for him._

"_I'm a runaway Ishbalan hiding from the likes of you!" he screamed. All the soldiers' heads turned towards my dearest friend. Then they brought up their shotguns, rifles, and other weapons. Soon, time stood still. Slowly, each gun was set loose, bullets flying from every direction, all aimed at Kendall. I couldn't let them hit my best friend. I ran into the fray, knocking him down to the ground. But it was too late._

"_God of Fuck! Holy mother of Amestris!" I screamed in pain. Blood encompassed my entire left arm. But it wasn't as much as there was on Kendall. His chest, gashed with wounds. His arms, bruised with more wounds. I couldn't even look at him for more than a second, but even that lasted forever. The only part of him that looked decent was his face. His immaculate face was spotless of any blood whatsoever. He was moaning in pain. "Kendall, Kendall! Speak to me!!!" I yelled at him, tears pouring onto his now flawed face. _

"_Stasia, Oh Stasia. How could this happen? I'm only 13. Tell me, how? I don't want to die. I have so much to say, so much to live for…like you" he told me. Wait, what the hell? I gave him the most confounded look anyone could possibly give. "Yeah, you heard me Stasia. I love you; I've loved you for a while. But just being friends was too little for me. But hey, it is who we are, just friends. Stasia, always keep me in your memories. Don't forget about me, please," he ended with a whisper. His eyes closed shut. What the fuck! I looked up towards the trucks. All their jaws were wide open, their hands above their hearts, the guns on the floor. My heart filled with rage. _

"_How dare you! He was my best friend! How could you just shoot your rifles after one little sentence??? You all are monsters, monsters I tell you! Kill an innocent child! No wonder those Ishbalans hated us!" I screamed at them, even though it only came out as a whisper. My nearby neighbors rushed to us, helping me up and carrying Kendall's lifeless body to the infirmary. "I made this happen, I had him do this, I went too far" I whispered repeatedly. I heard faint voices in the back, "what is she saying?" "Did anyone see what happened?" "How should we handle her arm?" "I don't hear Kendall's heart beating!"All their voices sounded the same, silent but meaningful. Yet, no matter what they said, I only knew one truth: Kendall was dead. _

As I was still in that horrid state, those people decided to "save" me. They cut off my left arm. They reasoned that "since I had all those bullets in my arm, it was useless". They made me go through even more enduring pain to slice it off and stitch it back up to make me live in the same state. Lucky for me, it wasn't all for naught; they called up an automail mechanic from Rush Valley to give me a mechanical limb. The man they called gave me a limb, but it hurt even more than ever before. I lived with pain for a long time, but I was able to heal when my best friend died at my disposal.

Yeah, I'll never forget that day, especially Kendall. It was four years exactly when that fateful date occurred. It was horrible; it made me hate the dreaded military from central. But ever since that day, no one has talked to me except my mother, and she even was reserved with me. I lived at the library, reading and re-reading every book on alchemy there, looking for any way to pass the time until I healed. It was years later when I came upon a certain book. It was in the form of a recipe, even though it was written by an alchemist I heard of in a separate work. The book read of a certain energy source: the philosopher's stone. It read that, at a high price, a stone can take place of any energy needed for alchemy. With this, I can be able to do anything, break the rules. With no limits, I can save my best friend, I can fix my arm. Yet, I was unable to do this naturally; I was still bound to Kantella. That was until my mother told me something completely unimaginable…

"_Kendall," my mom called me. It was my birthday, my 17__th__ birthday, my fourth birthday without Kendall lighting up my life. What would my mother want me to do, set up the radio or something? "I need to tell you something."_

"_What is it mother?" I asked her honestly. Ever since then, I haven't looked for confrontation from anyone. I was a freak of nature in Kantella. _

"_You aren't my daughter," she said, her sorrowful eyes gleaming at the floor. My life flashed before me. My childhood, my antics, my learning, my tragedy. How could this happen?_

"_That's not right, you are my mother. You raised me from birth, how could you not be my mother?" I asked her frantically. She was blond, I was blond. My mother had soft green eyes, the color I used to have. I was a clone of her!_

"_You were adopted by me within your first year. You had parents that originally weren't fit to raise you. You see, they were teenagers," her words mumbled out. She kept this away from me for so long?_

"_Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I asked my faux mother once more._

"_I was afraid of ruining our relationship we had. And if I told you sooner, you would most likely get yourself killed!" she yelled. The tears emitted from her eyes fell onto her thin pink cheeks. I have never thought of that. Back then I was a terrible mess, I could've harmed myself even more. _

"_Well mom, do you know where they could have possibly been?" I asked the woman. I could tell she cared about me, but I needed to know this, to know who I am, to know what to do with my life._

"_I adopted you out of the east, but who knows where the couple could be now," she told me. She gave me a look of understanding. "I'd start in central 'cause its closer. Make your way to the east, don't waste any time. I know you're capable on your own. I'm going to miss you here Anastasia."_

"_I'll miss you too, mom," I cried to her, bringing her into my arms. "Once I find them, I will come back to you, make us a family once again, and trust me." I let go of her, and went up into my room to pack my belongings. I wore my thin boots, loose t-shirt, and cropped pants and only packed one thing: my inspiration. A childhood photo of me and Kendall playing on a train. We were so little, so innocent. As I was walking out the door, the tears stroke down my face. I will try to make my life whole again!_

That leaves me to where I am now, walking on this dusty road. My dulled blond hair seems lifeless, swaying in the wind. My face is internally scarred, making my look gloomy wherever I go. My arm is in good shape, but the automail is getting rusty and old; I need it touched up. I feel like a mess, but as leaves fall off trees, the leaves will fly in the wind, giving life, giving hope. And just like a leaf, I'll have hope for the future, for central.

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**There's my first chapter! I hope you all liked it. Please give feedback!!**


	2. Chapter 2

After thirteen hours of walking, I finally reach central, if I could even see central. All my eyes permit me to see is a forest of stone buildings, buildings I used to think couldn't exist. They are all the same uniform color: gray. Gray, the color of sadness, loneliness, and gloom. The paved streets use stone all the same color, the sidewalk a mixture of gravel and cement, yet they all include the same gray pigment. It gives off an aura of sadness that suddenly hits me, making people turn towards me while they are supposedly on their morning route to work. Or maybe it's my ratty clothes and rancid odor.

"Umm, miss? Do you have anywhere to stay?" a young man asks me. He holds himself high above me, wearing a military uniform and all. His hair's kept, holding a walking stick. I then notice his eyes. They're dulled, the same gray that inhabits the city. Alas, this man is blind. I consider my options. Should I tell the man to go take a hike or should I take his gesture? If I take the offer, I would have to explain my reasons for being in central, and that would take a decade. Yet, if I tell him I couldn't accept his offer, I would have to conjure up a lie describing a fake predicament and a fake reason. Also, I wouldn't trouble the man. I make a choice.

"I do have a place to stay, but thanks for the offer. I don't want to be a bother," I kindly reject the offer. I keep walking towards the nearest information center until the man grabs hold of my left arm.

"Hmm, automail, correct?" the military man asks me. Dang it, why is another person pitying me?

"Yes it is automail kind sir, but don't think I need to be pitied. I can handle myself," I say, trying to jerk my arm out of his grasp. But the man still holds on tight.

"I know you can handle yourself young girl. You reek, so you must've been walking for miles in the wilderness. Your automail proves you can endure even the harshest pain, showing your inner strength as well. And for the record, I never said I will pity you. I have a subordinate that has been in the same predicament as you. I don't take pity on injured teens," he explains. I can't believe what this man was saying. Does he actually understand my thoughts? The man coughs a hushed cough. "Ah-hem, as I was saying, you need to come stay at my apartment. I believe you have nowhere to reside and you might as well reside where you are welcome." I reluctantly considers this new piece of info. I come to a conclusion.

"Fine, I'll come with you young man, but don't you have to continue to your office?" I ask him. It is the morning, isn't it?

"It's ok; I can take a few minutes off. I do have a high rank" he chuckles. I nervously laugh as well. We make our stride to his apartment.

Ten minutes later we enter the man's apartment. I survey the surroundings. It's simple and plain, fitting for a blind man. There are few pictures hung on the walls. I begin to examine them closely. The first picture is of the man with another young man, possibly five years ago. They are sharing beers, acting like brothers. The second man has circular glasses and a messy hair style. They both are wearing similar uniforms. They seem like real friends. I move to the second picture. It has an additional five members to the man. It has one large guy, one tall guy, one short guy with glasses holding a dog, a handsome man with a cigarette in his mouth in a chair, and one woman with a sniper. All these men look happy, possibly working under this guy. The woman just has a flat face, not really showing any emotion in her expression, but her eyes do the talking. They hold admiration, adoration, and true happiness. This picture is dated two years ago. Lastly, there's a picture without the man in it. Instead, it has two boys in it. One is average height with a metal limb. Doesn't this man have a worker with a metal limb like this? This must be the kid. Both kids have long gold hair and are pretty handsome. The second kid's a bit taller than the first kid, and looks extremely joyful. They look like real brothers. They are really nice looking.

"I know what you are thinking, that those two brothers look nice. Well they aren't the sweetest boys," the man jokes. "They only look gleeful now because they just finished a war and got their lives back from the shadows."

"What do you mean by that?" I question him, eager for more. "Who are they? You say that the metal limbed one works for you? How is that possible? He looks fifteen, sixteen max." The man laughs.

"The Fullmetal Alchemist is sixteen, almost seventeen years old. And Alphonse, the taller one, is fifteen years old. They have an extensive history," he continues. Suddenly I see him in deep thought. He must have an idea. "Hey, why don't I invite these people over? You seem to be a curious guest, and probably need to get adjusted to central, right?"

"Umm, sure," I say cordially. I have never even heard of the Fullmetal Alchemist or these other subordinates, and now I'm going to meet them? This is real strange. At least it will have me do something for today.

"This is good. Look, I have to go back to HQ so why don't you stay here and get washed up?" he tells me.

"Thank you. I will have everything set up for tonight," I promise him, escorting him out the door.

"Say, what is your name?" he asks me. I've completely forgotten that I hadn't told him my name!

"My name is Anastasia. May I ask what your name is?" I ask him. I'm staying at a stranger's house for Pete's sake!

"My name is Fuhrer Roy Mustang," he tells me in a dignified tone. What? How could I be staying at the Fuhrer's house? Isn't he the head of Amestris? Why does he settle for an apartment like this if he is the Fuhrer? But before I could ask him any of these questions, he closes the door on me!

"Well, if that man is going to be like that then fine! Ugh, I'll just get washed up," I grunt as I turn to the hallway. I head towards the bathroom, undress myself and hop into the shower. It doesn't take me a while to shower though; I'm used to making them quick. As I come out, I remember something important; I left my bag of clothes in the front room! With only a towel coving her body, I carefully exit the bathroom and I slowly make my way to the front room, afraid of anyone seeing me. Luckily, no one is monitoring his house. I grabbed my bag without haste and quickly scurry back to the room. I dress myself in my second pair of clothes, a baggy t-shirt, normal fitting pants, and ratty shoes. Although it's a different set of clothes, it still emulates the sad being within me.

Strangely, for me, time apparently passes slowly in the center of Amestris. There's nothing to do inside the Fuhrer's apartment. I'm completely and utterly bored out of mind. Time seems to pass so slowly that I eventually lose track of the time, ending up in me being startled when Fuhrer Roy Mustang re-enters his apartment. "Sir, you startled me!" I shriek, making the Fuhrer laugh. I then look up at one of the clocks. "It's already five o'clock?"

"Yes, it is, Anastasia," Roy tells me. "I already told all my subordinates to arrive at my apartment at around six o'clock. You should use this time to get ready."

"I would use this time to get ready, but I'm already dressed," I reply.

"Oh, right you are," Mustang jokes. "I'll be up in my study," he continues, walking into his room.

"I seriously wonder how he is able to see without being able to see" I whisper to myself. In due time it becomes six, and I'm quite afraid to see new people, especially military people! Haven't I already had a hellish past with them? This is going to be a horrible time for me. A knock strikes the front door.

"I'll get it," Mustang commands. He walks towards the door and opens it. Four men and a woman come through the door, and from their appearance, they are the five from the second picture. They look older though, approximately a few years older. All those people begin to chatter.

"Hows it going Mr. Fuhrer?" the tan one asks in a friendly manner to Roy.

"Good Breda, everything is going fine," he reports to him. They all look friendly with each other. They must've been working together for a while. Yet, soon after, a second knock emulates from the door. Roy opens it once again and out comes those brothers from the final photo. They look exactly like in the picture, the very recent picture.


End file.
